


Five Things Yondu Collected and One He Gave Away

by obfonteri (aspiringenjolras)



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jealousy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 09:33:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14746304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aspiringenjolras/pseuds/obfonteri
Summary: Yondu keeps a stash of everything he's collected over the years. But only once has he ever given something away.For Yondu Week 2018 on tumblr.





	Five Things Yondu Collected and One He Gave Away

**Author's Note:**

> These type of fics used to be super popular, I'm not sure if they really are anymore. But I think they're fun. 
> 
> The prompts for the day were Green, Smile, Passion, Collection, First.

**One - The Arrow**

“I believe this is yours.” Stakar’s voice  _ sounded _ sincere, but Yondu had been fooled by the soothing voice of his superiors before, and he wasn’t going to fall for it again. So he didn’t look up when the man — the  _ Captain,  _ he had learned — held out something in his hand. Eyes trained on the ground, docile and obedient like he had been trained to be, the only reward for eye contact was pain. But the arm only stretched out further toward him. “Yondu.” At the sound of his name, the Centaurian shifted his glance upward slightly, not quite high enough to look Stakar in the eyes. Instead, he settled on the hand, and the object in it.

His arrow. 

_ You found it! _ He opened his mouth, but only a strangled sound of joy came out. Twenty years of having his voice restrained had rendered it nearly unusable, yet he took the sliver of yaka metal and cradled it close to him anyway. His lips formed the words “thank you,” though without proper sound, the translator wouldn’t work. Still, Stakar seemed to get the message. He patted Yondu’s shoulder firmly, an action which he had once flinched at, though over the last few days had come to be familiar with. It was warmth, a kind gesture from the man who had saved his life, and he was grateful.

“We’ll work on some sort of mechanical headpiece for you,” Stakar continued, pulling Yondu from his thoughts. “It won’t be the same as the fins your people have, but it’ll transmit sound alright. We just have to get you whistling again.”

Yondu wasn’t too sure that was going to happen, but he couldn’t say it anyway, so he just nodded, clutching the arrow to his chest. His. The only thing he’d ever owned, the only thing he still owned, his again. He tucked it in a pocket in his jacket, safe from anyone who would ever try to take it from him again.

 

**Two - The Trinket**

When Stakar told him he was bringing him along on a mission, Yondu almost didn’t believe him. He had been preparing for this moment, learning the ins and outs of flying an M-ship, studying stealth and trickery, and his voice, while not completely healed, was getting stronger by the day. He was whistling before he started talking. It was more important to be able to defend himself. As much as he wanted to trust the Ravagers, he still didn’t feel safe. Whistling came easier than speech anyway. The piercing sound was bright and clear, loud enough to be heard halfway across the ship — though the crew had learned early on that there was no outrunning Yondu’s arrow. The first time he overheard a pilot making a snide comment about Stakar picking up strays, Yondu put him in the medbay for a month after puncturing some vital organ. Yondu apologized, but he wasn’t really sorry, and Stakar had been upset, though not for long.

The plan was simple. Fancy cruise ship in the sector. Get in, grab as much as possible, get out. They were there for the money, plain and simple. Just a loot, a smash and grab. Yondu could do that. He was the backup. Stakar hadn’t put him on the front line of attack, and he was grateful. Once they were on the ship, Yondu ran along behind the older Ravagers who were waving their blasters at anyone in the halls, threatening to shoot if anyone interfered. They broke into cabins, stole possessions right off passengers. In the midst of the chaos, Yondu stopped. Just inside the doorway of an open cabin, lying on the floor, was something glimmering and green. He ducked under the arm of whoever was blocking the corridor and crouched down, picking up the object. It was the form of a caricatured alien creature, carved out of a gemstone. He smiled at it for a moment, then tucked the trinket in his pocket and ran after the retreating group.

Back on the  _ Starhawk _ , the team was sharing what they’d nabbed. Martinex nudged Yondu with a grin. “What’d you get?” he asked, looking at him expectantly. Yondu shifted uncomfortably, and pulled out his prize. “The fuck is this?” the Pluvian scoffed, picking it out of Yondu’s hand to examine it. “A toy?”

Yondu glared and snatched it back. “Could be valu-ble,” he muttered hoarsely. The others snickered under the breath. Yondu stood abruptly and left the mess hall. Back in his cabin, he looked for a place to stash the trinket. But sharing the room with three other Ravagers meant nothing was safe being left around, so he returned it to his pocket, just above the arrow. No matter what the others said, it was his winnings from his first mission. It was special. 

 

**Three - The Scarf**

Yondu had never expected he would ever see his home, he place of birth, ever again. Not that he had been old enough to remember it when his parents sold him, but the connection was there all the same.

Still, he didn’t expect to find it deserted either.

“I told you not to expect too much,” Stakar said gently, but Yondu ignored him. He looked around at the dried up terrain and the abandoned village, and felt the urge to scream.

“What happened to them?” he asked, rounding on Stakar in anger. “The Centaurians. Where. Did. They. Go.”

Stakar looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there, and Yondu hated him for it. “I don’t know,” he said calmly. “No one has heard anything from the system in years. I told you that, I—”

“I don’t care what you said, I wanted to see for myself!” Yondu clenched his fists.

“I know,” Stakar said. “That’s why we came.” Patient as ever, a trait he seemed to reserve only for Yondu. Normally, he was grateful for it. But not today. “Take your time, Yondu. I’ll be on the ship when you’re ready.”

Yondu walked alone through the empty village, boots crunching on dried up plants and whatever else had fallen waste on the ground in the years since the planet was deserted. He had no memories of ever being here, yet it felt as familiar as a warm bed. His feet led him to a small hut, long broken down and decaying. He pushed open the wooden door that swung precariously on its hinges and stepped inside. It was dark, save for the little sunlight that filtered through holes in the roof, and smelled musty. 

And, strangely, of home.

He didn’t know how he knew. It wasn’t a scene he could match to any one life event or location. But he knew it. He ventured further inside, and started digging through everything he could find. It was like looting any place for valuables, but different all the same.

There, on the floor, covered in dirt, was a scrap of fabric. It caught his eye and he bent down to pick it up. It was tattered and faded so much he couldn’t even make out its original color. But it was soft, and smelled like the rest of the house. He brushed it off and wrapped it around his neck, tucking it under his collar. Just a little physical reminder.

Then he returned to the ship without looking back.

 

**Four - The Ship**

“My… own… ship.” Yondu sat down heavily, repeating Stakar’s words back to him slowly, processing. “Ya mean like, an M-ship, right? Because in case ya forgot, old man, I already got one of those.” 

Stakar was smiling, though, and that gave Yondu a bad feeling. “Nope,” the Captain said. “A real ship. A crew. All yours.” That definitely wasn’t right. Yondu shook his head rapidly, backing up a few steps. 

“Yer saying. That I— I’m…” his eyes were narrowed, lips pursed to whistle. If Stakar was just messing with him, he wasn’t afraid to spear him in the face. 

“A Captain.” Stakar’s voice was matter-of-fact. “Congratulations, son.”

Yondu stammered, trying to find words. “Wha- but… why? Why me? Why not—” He glanced over his shoulder at Martinex who was standing a ways away, oblivious. 

“Marty is a good Ravager,” Stakar said. “But he ain’t Captain material. He has the muscle and the brawn but not the grit. Or the brains.” He didn’t even sound apologetic about it. “He’ll be a good first mate when the time comes. But you.” He placed his hands on Yondu’s shoulders, and he felt his chest well with pride. “You will make a fine leader.” Still, there was a twinge of guilt, a little voice in the back of his head, nagging.  _ It shouldn’t be me. It should be be Martinex. He’ll kill me when he learns.  _

But as it turned out, Martinex hadn’t been as out of earshot as he’d thought. As Yondu walked past him, almost in a trance, the other Ravager caught his arm, stopping him. “The council decided.” It wasn’t a question. “You’re getting the new ship.” There was no bitterness in the other’s voice, just a quiet acceptance. “Congrats, I guess.”

Yondu nodded, not knowing what else to say. “Thank… you…” he mumbled, and jerked his arm out of Martinex’s grasp. He had work to do now. A crew to assemble. He’d be collecting some of the galaxy’s best, and if he was lucky, he’d be able to recruit one or two trusted friends from Stakar’s ship to go with him. Yondu walked away toward his own cabin, feeling the other’s icy stare on his retreating back.

 

**Five - The Terran**

“Remind me again why we’re keeping this one?” Kraglin peered over Yondu’s shoulder into the cell, where a small Terran boy was huddled against the back wall, clutching a backpack to his chest.

Yondu scowled. “He’s skinny. He’ll be useful to us.” He advanced toward the cage, pulling a translator piece out from his pocket. 

The Terran let out a wail as Yondu opened the door and walked over to him. “All the others was skinny too, and they wasn’t nearly as loud as this one,” Kraglin muttered.

Yondu ignored him. “Come on boy, be still, let me just…” he grabbed the Terran by the collar and somehow managed to stick the translator chip on him. “There. That better?”

The boy shut up as soon as he heard words in a familiar language. But he didn’t look any less wary. Balling his hands into fists, he tried to fend Yondu off pitifully. “Who are you people?” he said, voice shaking. 

Yondu laughed. “Name’s Yondu Udonta, that there is Kraglin. We’re Ravagers. And so are you now, boy. What’s yer name?”

The kid shook his head, scrambling to his feet. “No! I ain’t nothing! Why did you bring me here?” Yondu rolled his eyes and prodded a finger at his chest.

“You ain’t got nowhere else to go, kid. This is home now. So you got a name or what?” He couldn’t help but feel a little bad. He at least understood the boy’s fear of being in a new place. But this was better. This was how to had to be. There was no other choice. 

The boy must’ve seen Yondu’s gaze soften or something, because his expression wilted into something of defeat. “Peter Quill.” He spoke barely above a whisper so that Yondu almost didn’t hear him. But he nodded, and just patted the kid’s shoulder awkwardly.

“Welcome to the Ravagers, Peter Quill.” He steered him out into the hallway, Kraglin falling into step beside them. The kid had some spirit to him, Yondu was sure he’d be just as good as any other recruit, eventually. After all, he’d turned out alright. Maybe the boy would even be Captain of his own ship one day. 

“Ya sure this is a good idea?” Kraglin asked, speaking low enough that only Yondu would hear. He nodded. 

“Absolutely.”

 

**\+ One - The Zune**

“Cap’n you know these junker shops ain’t got nothing but garbage.” Kraglin’s voice cut through Yondu’s thoughts as he rummaged through the piles of old tech and, as the first mate had said, garbage. 

“Yeah, well.” He shrugged, closing his fist around a small black device. “The idiots w sell to at double the price don’t know that.” Kraglin just scoffed. “What’s this?” He held up the device to the shop owner, who took it from him and looked it over. 

“It’s from Terra,” she said. “It plays music, see?” She showed the screen to Yondu. 

“Music,” he repeated slowly. “Kraglin, ya think Pete would like this?” Knowing he boy and his passion for songs, it seemed likely. 

But Kraglin didn’t look amused. “Quill ain’t here anymore, Cap’n.”

“I know, but…” Yondu trailed off. “How much?” he asked the woman. 

“50 units,” she said. Kraglin whirled around. 

“We ain’t paying 50 units for some overpriced piece of crap that don’t even work—”

Yondu held up a hand. “30, that’s it.” The woman scowled but nodded, handing it over to him. “Transfer the credits, Kraglin.” The first mate rolled his eyes but did as he was asked. 

“I don’t get it,” he mumbled as they left. Yondu held the music player— a Zune, as the word across the front indicated— close to his chest. “He’s gone and he ain’t coming back to us.”

Yondu shook his head. “He will. Eventually.”

“How can ya be so sure? He has a new family now. And most of our boys want him dead.” Kraglin stopped, catching Yondu’s arm and looking at him seriously. “Ya know I care about ya, Cap’n. And Quill. But he’s moved on. And ya should too.”

But Yondu wasn’t going to accept that.  He listened to it every day, burning each song into his memory, because it was all he had left of his boy. One day, he would give it to Quill. And maybe then, he would understand how much Yondu cared. 

***

“Cap’n found it in a junker shop, figured you’d come back to the fold one day.” Kraglin’s heart ached, knowing that Yondu had never gotten to give Quill his gift. “It’s called a Zune, it’s what everybody’s listening to on Earth these days. It’s got 300 songs on it.” Quill seemed just as wonderstruck by it as Yondu had been, which in some ways hurt Kraglin more. He shouldn’t be the one standing here now. It should’ve been Yondu. From what Quill said at the funeral, it sounded like he’d been able to patch things up with the boy before he died. But Kraglin wished they’d had more time. All of them. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! I'd love to hear your thoughts! And come say hi on [tumblr!](https://obfonteri.tumblr.com/)


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